


Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme

by kiwiskreationz



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Feels, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiskreationz/pseuds/kiwiskreationz
Summary: Kiara Trevelyan is terrified of the demons who have perused her in her dreams since she was small so she's unsure how to react when a demon shows up to help. Nora Trevelyan struggles to lead the Inquisition in the path that will help as many people as possible. She didn't expect, in the middle of all this chaos, to find her sister who ran away years ago and to learn that Kiara is also a mage. I own nothing but my OC. :)





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hello lovelies. :) You might find the title I chose a bit odd, so I thought I would take a moment to explain. The song, "Scarborough Fair", where I got this list of herbs from, uses these herbs symbolically for different virtues. Each one represents one of the four characters my story will revolve around.
> 
> Parsley - Was prescribed in medieval times to heal a hurting heart - Cole
> 
> Sage - Long-standing symbol of strength = Cullen
> 
> Rosemary - Faithfulness, love, and remembrance = Nora Trevelyan (Inquisitor)
> 
> Thyme - Courage = Kiara Trevelyan

Kiara let the damp rag plop onto the wooden table and let it sit for a few moments, letting the water soak into the wood to make it easier to wipe up the sticky mess of ale splattered across the surface. People around her, mostly men, talked loudly and laughed even louder, but she was used to the sound. Garren, the bartender and proprietor of the inn, nodded to her and grinned. Kiara sighed sarcastically and started to scrub at the dried alcohol. She kept busy as always, cleaning everything in sight so the men could return to slop it up again.  
  
With the skirmishes raging between the Mages and Templars in the area, many people had been driven to their little village and all ten rooms at their inn were full. Many of their patrons were men who allowed their wives and children to stay in the rooms upstairs or in homes around town while they slept on the floor of the bar. Now battles were even infringing on the Crossroads, putting them all at risk again.  
  
Kiara set a tray of dirty clay bowls on the counter and pulled her dark red hair up to tie it away from her sweating neck. Garren grinned. “Did you hear?” he asked.  
  
“Oh good, you’re being vague again,” she teased.  
  
Garren’s smirk scrunched the salt and pepper scruff he was growing around his mouth. “The Inquisition is apparently in the area. They’re making some kind of play for Redcliffe.”  
  
“But Redcliffe is overrun by the rebel Mages,” Kiara noted.  
  
Garren shrugged. “I guess they’d rather take their chances with magic to help them close that forsaken hole in the sky than the Templars. It’ll backfire, mark my words. I just hope we don't all pay for it.”  
  
Kiara busied herself with straightening the dishes on her tray so they would balance better, making no attempt to pursue the subject of magic. He wasn’t referring to all mages, she knew, but she never made a point of discussing it.  “I should go wash these before they get crusty.” She saw Garren watch her through her peripherals as she swept around the counter with her tray. He looked like he wanted to speak, but she hurried off before he could have the chance.  
  
A winter chill greeted her outside but with her hands full she was unable to hug her coat tighter to herself. She trudged around to the back of the building where a large water basin awaited use. With a cringe of anticipation at the biting cold her hands would find inside, she plunged one of the bowls in and used a rag to scrub at it. Her mind wandered in the mindlessness of the task and she jumped when someone spoke.  
  
“He suspects.”  
  
She dropped the plate inside and spun to the young man. How had he snuck up on her like that? If he weren’t moving, breathing, she might have sworn he was a scarecrow. Tall and slim, his pale blue eyes were almost hidden behind the enormous rim of his hat and shaggy blond hair. There was something unsettling about the intensity of those blue eyes.  
  
“He suspects; When you light the fireplace on frozen nights, when when you slip a poultice into his tea to help his back, when he hears you trembling in your nightmares; He suspects. Wonders if the demons are whispering to you. Knows you’re afraid.”  
  
Kiara took a wary step back, scrunching her brows in apprehension. “What? Who are you? How do you know that?”  
  
“That made it worse . . .” he said to himself. He looked uncomfortable now and averted his eyes as he fidgeted with his hands. “Don’t worry, you’ll forget. You’re afraid of what he’ll think, but he won’t hate you for it. He worries, wants you to be safe and is afraid of the Templars in the area coming too close, even the good ones.”  
  
Kiara drew a slim, two edged knife from her boot and advanced on him. His eyes widened and he backed up. “Are you a blood mage or a demon?” she demanded. The next moment, she was alone and couldn’t for the life of her remember why she was holding her dagger or why there was a little cloud of smoke in front of her. Her confused pondering was interrupted by a hubbub back around the front of the building that drew her focus. She slid the dagger back into it’s hidden sheath and scampered out front. She hid near the corner of the building to stay out of sight of the fight.  
  
Another Templar-Mage battle was encroaching on the town, but their seemed to be a third party involved. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any villagers near them. Somewhere in the confusion and chaos, the last templar fell at the hands of a woman with dark, short hair sporting a large shield and sword. One of the mages advanced on her and one of his friends followed suit. She recognised them as a few of the men who were staying at the inn. The Templars must have discovered them.  
  
“Wait! We are not Templars!” the women called out in a thick Orlesian accent. Not taking the chance, the mages who remained turned their wrath on the newcomers. The fight ended quickly, but these well-armed strangers seemed saddened by the result. Kiara’s heart nearly stopped when one of them straightened to sheath her sword. The woman brushed her curtain of dark hair away from her face as she and her three compatriots began to converse. Kiara couldn’t breathe, panic closing her throat.  
  
After all these years, seeing Nora again should have brought her joy, but all she felt was fear of being discovered. There was no chance Nora would forgive her for the way she had run off without even leaving a letter for her or their parents. But she couldn’t explain, couldn’t take the chance that she would be sent away to a circle. Even now she would share whatever fate awaited the mages once the war ended. She had lived as an apostate for too long. Their family had strong ties to both the Chantry and the Templars, so surely they would mistrust her when they discovered the trouble she had with demons.  
  
The young woman sprinted to the back of the building again. Perhaps if she hid back here and cleaned the dishes really slowly, they would pass by and never know she was here. Or maybe her sister wouldn’t even recognize her. It had been ten years after all and Kiara had been young when she left home.  
  
“Kiara?” She heard Garren call out. She perked up anxiously. Had the adventurers come to the inn for a rest? Did he want to introduce them? “Kiara?” he called again.  
  
“Back here,” she answered. Garren jogged around the corner, looking visibly relieved. He drew her into a brief hug that she returned with a chuckle.  
  
“Thank the Maker,” he breathed. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t caught in the skirmish. Bloody Templars pushing the mages to defend themselves here. Can’t they do this outside of town?” Kiara mentally smacked herself. Of course he had been concerned for her safety. The way he was looking at her, she was struck with the inkling that perhaps he knew her secret and had been worried she was the one who had been discovered by Templars. A moment of deja vu struck her at the thought. How on earth would he suspect and what had given her the idea?  
  
“Sorry, I should have come inside to let you know I was alright,” she said.  
  
He smiled. “Yes, you should have. Try to finish up the dishes and come back in. The Inquisition is going to station troops here to keep the fighting out of town and I’m sure they’ll be hungry.” Kiara nodded to Garren, but she took her time with the dishes, anyway, even going so far as to pat them dry with her other rag rather than let them air dry inside as she normally did. When she finally crept to the front door, the travelers were, of course, long gone. So, Nora was in the Inquisition. Were they really leaving troops here? Her heart sank. What if Nora came back to check on her men at some point and found Kiara then?  
  


* * *

  
  
Kiara shivered and huddled into a tighter ball on the cold floor. The room was dark, but she didn’t need light to know that it was empty, void of anything warm and homely. She resigned herself to fall back asleep. At least in the Fade, she wouldn’t be here. But the door to her cell was wrenched open loudly and she bolted upright. A stream of bright light hurt her eyes as the pitch black room was illuminated. An iron-clad Templar entered and remained beside the door. Nora strode in, her arms crossed and her expression stern.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” she demanded. “We could have helped you! You would have been treated well in Ostwick, Mother and Father would have seen to it. But these Templars will never allow us to take you home, now, not when you’re such a risk.”  
  
Kiara gasped. “What do you mean, a risk? I barely ever use my magic, I swear it! And even then it’s only to help Garren around the inn. I’ve kept to myself and I never listen to the demons–”  
  
Nora held up a hand to cut her off. She looked unbelievably sad and averted her green eyes. “Enough, Kiara. Don’t you understand? There’s no way for us to know what kind of contact you’ve had with demons and they won’t take the risk of you being an abomination. The Chantry has ordered-” Nora’s voice caught and she hesitated to take a shuddering breath. “They’ve ordered the Right of Tranquility. I’m so sorry . . .”  
  
Kiara felt her eyes go wide and she started to tremble. Her attention returned to the templar by the door as he loomed closer to her and readied his blade in case she fought back. “Please, no,” she whimpered, skittering back back on all fours until her back hit the wall. She clamped her eyes shut and waited for her fate. Instead, a familiar voice drifted into her mind through the darkness, calm and soothing, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it. It pulled her toward consciousness.  
  
You’re safe, don’t listen to them. It’s only a dream.  
  
Kiara inhaled sharply, pulling herself awake. Her dark red hair was splayed across the pillow. The tendrils almost looked like little rivers of blood, making her heart skip until she lifted her head and the strands followed. She was surprised to find a blanket draped over her, as she had gone to sleep without one. Another family had been driven from their home and she had lent hers to the father downstairs. She hadn’t told Garren, knowing he would insist she keep it. Had he come to check on her at some point? The candle on her bedside table had been lit as well, flickering in the cold night air. She welcomed its light and hugged the wool blanket to herself, letting its warmth keep the memory of the dream at bay. But anxiety roiled in her gut.  
  
She knew the dream had been the ploy of a fear demon. Every few nights, a demon of some sort played with her mind. Now that she was awake, she could feel the familiar feeling of the Fade releasing it’s grip on her, as well as the demon’s influence. But the dream had been based on something that could happen if Nora came back. The girl allowed herself a few minutes of rest and then rose from bed. It would be fortuitous to pack light, but if she wasn’t coming back, she would need to bring as much as possible. That meant she would need a horse. Horsemaster Dennet had lent a few of his horses to the Crossroads. No one would be surprised to find one missing. One by one, she snuck her packs down the stairs and set them beside a few barrels at the side of the building.  
  
On her third and final trip, she stopped outside Garren’s room and pushed the door open a crack. The quiet sound of his snoring let her know he was fast asleep. She stepped into the room and used magic to light a small fire in her hand, just enough to see by. It would take an explosion to wake him, so she wasn’t worried he would see.  
  
Her heart ached at leaving like this. He wouldn’t understand, even when he read her letter. After everything he had done for her, he deserved better than for her to disappear in the middle of the night, but she had to go. She crept from the room, her throat tight with emotion.  
  
She made sure her stuff was hidden in a bush outside before beginning her search for a horse. When she found one, brown with a long white patch on its chest and nose, she readied it with a saddle, careful not to wake the man who was supposed to be watching them. Ready, she brought it back to the inn to fasten her gear to it.  
  
It was difficult to navigate, even in the light the moon and stars provided, and even harder to do it from the horse’s back. So, she lead it by foot and held a lantern to lead her way, though the tiny flame from the candle did little. She stopped to look back when the Crossroads were a far distance off, down the hilly landscape. Her resolve almost broke and she almost turned back, but either through stubbornness or fear, perhaps both, she turned to leave the little village behind her. She jumped when she returned her attention to the path, startled by the young man who stood in her way.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked frantically. “You have to go back.”  
  
Kiara stepped closer to the horse, as if it would protect her from this clearly troubled lad. He kept his head down and the large rim of his hat hid most of his face from view. “Who are you? What do you want?” she asked.  
  
He looked up and crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, his eyes wide and desperate behind strands of his blond hair. “You need to go back. They needed you to be afraid, needed you to leave before she could have a chance to find you. ‘Use the sister to our advantage, turn her against the Harald. Won’t kill her own sister, even once she’s possessed.’” The young man shook his head as if to focus himself from whatever bizarre tangent he had fallen down and his pale blue eyes flitted to her once more with an unsettling depth. She sank back. “I went to check on you again, but you were gone. They wanted you to flee, so you’d be alone.”  
  
“Who wanted me to be alone?” Kiara asked. He was about to answer when an arrow whizzed past his left arm. He grimaced and gripped his upper arm. Apparently it hadn’t missed entirely. Kiara looked around wildly for the culprit but only saw shapes moving in the moonlight beyond the light of her candle. The clanging of metal against metal and the grunts of labor drew her attention to a skirmish a few yards off the road. How had the young man gotten over there so fast? He wove expertly around several men in full suits of armor, but they weren’t Templars. He cut them down with a pair of blades but she could hear his outcries whenever one hit him, too.  
  
“Look out!” She called to him as another man charged for him, sword ready. How many were there? She didn’t have time to look around to find out. She ran toward them and wove the magic in the world around her into a fireball spell, launching it at the man. It was too late. The boy turned from his fallen adversary just in time for the blade to gash across his front. Her fireball crashed into the man, sending him flying to the side as the lad fell to the ground. Kiara advanced on them, but all of a sudden the young man disappeared in a puff of smoke. He appeared again at her side and grabbed hold of her arms.  
  
“There are more, too many,” he said quickly. Before she could respond the world vanished around her. It appeared again a moment later, but they were somewhere different when the smoke dissipated. She pulled herself from his grip with such force that she knocked herself to the ground and dropped her lantern. The young man clutched his chest in pain, his knees trembling. He fell, having barely enough energy to adjust himself so he would fall on his side rather than land on his wound. Gravity pulled his heavy-topped hat off and it clanked to the dirt. Kiara just sat motionless on the ground, unable to wrap her mind around what had happened. A demon had just saved her life. Why? She waited for him to stir, but his eyes remained closed. Was he breathing? Was he. . . .  
  
She crawled over to him and hesitantly rolled him onto his back. His shirt was stained with crimson and she pressed a hand to her mouth, taking a deep breath to stop herself from losing her dinner. She had seen the town’s healer mend a few people. Even had to have her own hand healed once when a knife slipped too easily through a warm pear the previous summer. Nevertheless, the thought of healing someone was daunting, since she had never tried and the consequences of failure were irreversible in this situation. But it was either try or let both the demon and the mage boy he had possessed die.


	2. Two

"We don't have the manpower to take the castle. Either we find another way in, or we give up this nonsense and go and get the Templars,” Cullen insisted vehemently.

Cassandra shook her head. "Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister. This cannot be allowed to stand."

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It's an obvious trap,” Josephine pointed out.

"Of course it is," Nora said with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't go. We need to stop arguing and make a decision."

Cullen let out a growl of frustration. "Redcliffe Castle is one of  _ the _ most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults." He turned a stern gaze on her. "If you go in there you'll die and we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it."

Nora clenched. "Is that really  _ all _ you're worried about losing?" she rebuked. Cullen's brown eyes widened when he realized what she thought he meant.

"I didn't mean . . ." The entire room went quiet and Nora averted her gaze to the war table, scowling.

Only Leliana was willing to break the tense silence. "If we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep,” she said.

"Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught. An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied." Josephine sounded irritated that this course of action was being discussed in such length, clearly convinced it was the wrong move.

Cassandra looked irked as well. "The Magister—"

"Has outplayed us,” Cullen interrupted.

"I can't believe that's true," Nora said. A muscle in Cullen's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue with her. "And even if he has, can we really afford to let him control all the rebel mages? Is there no other way to get into the keep other than a head-on attack?" She pondered for a moment. "Where is the Arl of Redcliffe? I'm sure he'd help us get his castle back."

"After he was displaced, Arl Teagan rode straight for Denerim to petition the crown for help. I doubt he'll want our assistance once the Ferelden army lays siege to his castle,” the Ambassador explained.

Leliana stepped closer to the map with an eager expression easing her usually stern scowl as she recalled something. "Wait. There is a secret passage into the castle; An escape route for the royal family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through."

Cullen’s finger tapped on the pummel of his sword. "Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the Magister."

"That's why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly."

Nora perked up. "Give him what he wants and he'll be too busy to look for spies. That's clever."

Cullen nodded begrudgingly. "Focus his attention on Trevelyan while we take out the Tevinters. It's risky, but it could work.”

As if hearing the cue of his people, the large doors of the war room opened to the Tevinter mage who had helped them close a rift back at Redcliffe’s Chantry. "Fortunately, you'll have help," he said as he strutted up to the table.

"This man says he had information about the Magister and his methods, Commander," a guard announced from the door. Dorian smiled briefly to Nora, who returned it with a nod. She was unsure of his motivations, but he had helped them thus far. He would need to be watched, though, until she could be sure.

Cullen levelled a mistrustful scowl on the Tevinter, but it did not phase the mage. "Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So, if you're going after him, I'm coming along," Dorian said. Cullen looked to Nora.

"This plan puts  _ you _ in the most danger. We can't in good conscience order you to do this. We can still go after the Templars if you'd rather not play the bait. It's up to you." His brown eyes silently pleaded with her to take another route.

Nora looked down at the map again before those eyes could change her mind. “The Templars have already expressed their disinterest in the Inquisition. Going to them would be no less dangerous. We cannot let the Magisters hold power over so many of the Mages in Ferelden. We will go ahead with Leliana’s plan.

“So be it.” Cullen’s voice was quiet now, sad.

* * *

 

He had been right. Of  _ course _ he had been right. Nora awoke laying in six inch deep water and sputtered a cough as her lungs repelled the vile tasting stuff. “Blood of the Maker, where did they come from?” Someone stammered. She looked around the dim room to a pair of armored men at the door who were now charging on her. Wait,  _ they _ ? She found Dorian at her side but didn’t have time to ponder yet. Only after they dealt with the men, which wasn’t difficult, did she really have a chance to look around. They were in some sort of prison cell. Had Alexius transported them to the dungeon?

“Interesting,” Dorian mused. “It’s probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us, to what, the closest confluence of arcane energy?”

“What do you mean?” Nora asked. “Since when is the dungeon of Redcliffe, a ‘confluence of arcane energy’?”

“Let’s see. If we’re still in the castle . . . it isn’t. Ah! Of course! It’s not simply  _ where _ , it’s  _ when _ ! Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time.”   
  
“You’re kidding,” Nora argued in bafflement. “Did we go forward or backward and how far?”

“Those are excellent questions. Ones we will not find the answers to in this cell. Let’s have a look around. Once we know where the rift took us, maybe we can find a way to get back. If we can . . .”

“Right,” Nora agreed. She ignored the clenching in her gut and refused to ponder what would happen if they couldn’t. The rest of the dungeon was just as dark and dank as the cell they had woken in. But most disturbing was the red lyrium protruding from the walls. The few poor souls they came across seemed unable to process anything outside their own minds. The lyrium had probably driven them mad. A familiar voice drifted through the halls, however, and Nora paused.

“The light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water . . .” Nora followed the sound of Cassandra’s chant, but something sounded wrong about her voice just has it had everyone else’s. It echoed hollow as if it were not really her. But it was undoubtedly Cassandra she found sitting in a cell, staring at the floor in defeat. When she approached, the warrior looked up and her eyes widened.

“You’ve returned to us! Can it be? Has Andraste given us another chance? Maker forgive me, I failed you. I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life.”

“I didn’t die, we just . . .”

Dorian stepped forward to help her explain. “Alexius sent us forward in time. If we find him we  _ may _ be able to return to the present.”

“Go back in time . . .” Cassandra muttered as she rose to her feet. “Then, can you make it so that none of this ever took place?”

“With any luck, yes.”

“Alexius’s master . . . after you died, we could not stop the Elder One from rising. Empress Celene was murdered. The army that swept in afterwards—it was a horde of demons. Nothing stopped them. Nothing . . .” Cassandra looked to the floor, haunted by some terrible memory. Nora stepped forward and put her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders.

“We’ll stop all of that from happening, I swear it.”

Cassandra’s grey-blue eyes met hers. “Maker guide us all.”

* * *

 

They found Varric in the dungeons as well, humming a song to himself that he had invented for his beloved crossbow. She had heard him hum it during battle now and then. He was less visibly distressed than Cassandra had been, but no less haunted. It was painful to see in someone who was ordinarily so carefree and upbeat. He had heard that Alexius had barricaded himself in the throne room, so that was where they were headed now. It was difficult to navigate through a castle that she had only ever seen two rooms of before. They stood at a four-way corridor, unsure what path to take.

“I think it was left,” Varric said.

“No, right,” Cassandra argued.

“Are you saying that because you  _ actually _ think it’s to the right, or is it just because I said left?” Varric bantered. Cassandra snarled in frustration.

“No, really, let’s stand around and discuss it. If we wait long enough, we’re sure to be discovered. I bet they would bring us straight to Alexius, but I doubt we’d be in any condition to fight as it would only be our heads,” said Dorian. Nora took in a deep breath. As a compromise, the Herald took the middle path. None argued. Further down the hall, she heard the grunts of someone being beaten.

“How did Trevelyan know the sacrifice was at the temple? Answer!” A man demanded.

“Never,” replied a familiar feminine voice in a thick Orlesian accent. She gave another outcry as he no doubt punished her for not answering. Nora looked to the others to confirm what she heard. They nodded. She followed the voice to a room at the end of the hall and threw the door open. A man in Tevinter robes and a mask turned in bewilderment. Leliana hung from chains behind him, her feet just barely close enough to the floor to stand. When he turned, she wrapped her legs around his neck and twisted. There was a  _ crack _ and he fell to the floor. Nora sprinted forward to pull the keys from his body.

“You’re alive,” Leliana muttered while she unlocked the shackles around the Bard’s wrists. Nora couldn’t stop staring at her face, much older than it should have looked given that only a year had passed. What kind of torture had she endured? It had to have involved magic to have such an effect.

“We’ll get you out of here,” the brunette reassured her.

“Do you have weapons?” Nora nodded. “Good. The Magister’s probably in his chambers.” The redhead strutted past them to a chest on the floor.

“You . . . aren’t curious how we got here?” Dorian asked.

“No,” was Leliana’s short reply.

“Alexius sent us into the future. This, his victory, his Elder One, it was never meant to be,” he clarified anyway.

Nora continued to take in the Assassin’s haggard appearance. “I . . . I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to endure. But if we can find Alexius and get back to the present, then you’ll never have to go through it.”

“And mages wonder why people always fear them. No one should have this power.” Leliana shook her head.

“It’s dangerous and unpredictable,” Dorian agreed. “Before the Breach, nothing we did–”

“Enough,” Leliana interrupted. “This is all pretend to you. Some future you hope will never exist. I suffered.  _ The whole world _ suffered. It was real.” Dorian fell quiet.

“Leliana, I . . .” Nora hesitated, the question tingling her tongue, but she had to build the courage to ask it. “What happened to the others? Where is Cullen?”

Leliana shook her head sadly, smiling ironically. “We were blind not to have noticed sooner. The two of you were not subtle. But don’t do this. Remember him as you know him. Just know that he thought of you always.” Her words were meant to help, of course, but they only made Nora feel worse. She had done this to them. To him. “We should move,” Leliana suggested. The Herald nodded. 

* * *

 

An unholy wailing shook the throne room, knocking rubble loose from the ceiling. “The Elder One,” said Leliana. Whatever the Elder One was, Nora did not look forward to meeting it.

“Time to go, Herald,” Varric said. He and Cassandra shared a look and she nodded. “We’ll hold them back while you make your escape. Once they get through, the rest will be up to you.”

Nora’s green eyes widened when she realized what he meant. “ _ No, _ I won’t let you die for this.”

“Look at us, we’re already dead,” Leliana said. “The only way we live is if this day never comes. Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows.” Nora’s compatriots turned to the door and shut it behind them to help keep the Elder One at bay while Leliana remained inside to hold them off once Cassandra and Varric . . .  _ Maker _ how Nora wanted to fight; to protect them from any more harm. The cries of demons perforated the walls. Finally, the door burst open. A Terror tossed Varric’s corpse into the room as a slew of demons and Tevinters streamed in. Cassandra was dead somewhere beyond the room, she knew. Leliana chanted to herself as she held them off until a familiar young woman marched into the room. Nora gasped.

_ “No,” _ she exclaimed. Kiara advanced on Leliana with intimidating calmness, deflecting the Bard’s arrows with a wave of her hand.  _ She was using magic. _ Kiara was a  _ mage _ ? No, this wasn’t Kiara anymore, she realized. Her eyes, which had once been hazel, were glowing green like a demon’s. 

“Leave the Herald for me,” the demon possessing Kiara ordered the others in a deep voice that did not match her sister’s young feminine face. Nora moved to help Leliana, to do  _ something _ , but Dorian grabbed her arm.

“You move and we all die!” he declared. Leliana continued to fight while Dorian’s spell on the amulet began to open a rift. Nora glanced back at Leliana one more time, in time to see the demon who had possessed her sister rip into Leliana with powerful magic. Kiara turned an unfeeling gaze onto Nora. Nora took in her sister’s heartbreaking appearance for a few moments more before sprinting through the portal with Dorian. Seconds later, they found themselves back in their own time with everyone looking on in shock, especially Alexius.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian jested. Nora strutted past him and grabbed Alexius roughly by the neck.

“Is that the  _ best _ you can do?” she spat.

“ _ Maker, _ ” Cassandra blurted, surprised by Nora’s outburst of aggression. She didn’t understand, didn’t know what he’d do. Dorian’s hand found her shoulder.

“No, Nora, he’s not the same man as the one we met. Things can be different. He doesn’t need to die,” he pleaded.

Nora clenched her eyes closed. He was right and she knew it. With a cry of anger, she shoved Alexius to the ground. Leliana’s men moved in on him and the Herald turned her back to leave.

* * *

 

"It's not a matter for debate," Cullen insisted. "There will be abominations among the mages and we must be prepared."

"If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition look incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst," Josephine argued.

"What were you thinking, turning the mages loose? The veil is torn open!" Cullen barked.

"We need their cooperation," Nora said. She did not look at Cullen. Hadn't since they got back. That seemed to be making him even more frustrated, but she couldn't bring herself to.

"That's not all, is it?" Dorian said from the corner. Everyone jumped and drew their weapons, not knowing he was there. Nora gasped. Even as distracted as he had been, he had noticed her reaction when Kiara had entered the room.

"Leave, Tevinter. You were not asked to be here," Cassandra snapped.

"That girl. You know her," Dorian said as if the Seeker had not spoken.

"Girl? What girl?" Leliana asked. "What did you leave out?" Nora had explained most of what had happened, leaving out the gory details of the fates of those in the room. There was no reason to burden them with that knowledge. She had also neglected to tell them about Kiara. Nora shifted uncomfortably as all eyes watched her.

“My sister.” Her voice cracked shamefully. “They took her. Used her against us . . .” was all she could say.

“Are you hoping to find her among the rebel mages?” Dorian asked. She gave a stiff nod. No one seemed quite sure what else to say. As usual, it was Leliana who broke the tense silence.

“What’s done is done. We can go over this in more depth another time. For now, you should get some rest while we prepare the mages for closing the rift. You’ve had a trying few days.” They adjourned and began filing from the room. 

She wanted to go to Cullen, to apologize for whatever horrible fate had befallen him in that place. But she couldn’t force her feet to carry her to his office and they refused to remain still to wait for him. Instead, she wandered through Haven to the little one-room home they had set aside for her. Her mind drifted, picturing what the room would have looked like in that dark future; A future that only came to pass because of a decision  _ she _ had made. She was supposed to help the Inquisition down the right path. Until a few nights ago, she hadn’t even given herself time to think about what would happen if they failed.

She didn’t notice Cullen come in. He cleared his throat in the doorway and she spun to face him, startled. “Sorry,” he apologized, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I, um . . . I just wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I was just . . . worried about what might happen with the mages.”

“I know. You have valid reason to worry. We  _ should _ keep an eye on them.” Nora dropped her gaze and turned to the small room again. With arms crossed, she pressed a cold hand to her forehead.

“Nora?”

“I don’t deserve your apology, Cullen. You were right, I almost ruined everything. I can’t bear knowing that in doing what I did . . .  _ I _ killed you. I killed all of you . . .” She struggled to keep the emotion from her voice and it gave a quiver. She felt Cullen’s hands graze down her arms to just above her elbows, felt his warmth behind her. His lips rested above her ear, his words soft. She found his hands with her own and gripped them. His fingers, which were usually gloved, were cold to the touch from the crisp air.

“I don’t know what you saw in that place, but we can change it. We know more about the enemy’s plan and we kept the mages from joining this ‘Elder One’. And we’ll find your sister. They won’t take her, I promise you.”

Kiara. After all these years, she really was alive. Did she run because she was a mage? Was she really that afraid of the Circle? Perhaps in Ferelden there would be reason to be, but the Circle in Ostwick was notoriously lax. She would have answers soon enough. Finally.


	3. Three

Darkness was beginning to fade when the young man’s pale blue eyes opened. Kiara was sitting beside him with her arms wrapped around her knees, failing in her attempt not to fall asleep as the smell of the pine trees soothed her senses. When he tried to sit up, however, she jolted awake. “Careful,” she warned, holding out her hands to stop him. “I was able to stop the bleeding, but I don’t know if it will start again.” She helped him sit up carefully and then scooted back, facing him when she sat. Common sense told her not to sit with her back within arm’s reach of a demon, even one who seemed friendly enough. Maker, a friendly demon. There was a thought.

“You . . . you stayed to help me.” He looked confused and almost uncomfortable at the notion. She handed him his hat and he plopped it on his head. It seemed to make him more comfortable.

Kiara laughed dryly, more out of surprise. “Of course I did. You saved my life.”

“Yes,” was his only response.

“Why?”

“You needed help.”

Kiara shook her head in marvel at the simplicity of his answer. He said it as if helping a complete stranger was simply the way the world worked. “But demons don’t help. Are you not a demon?”

"I was, but I didn't want to be that. Rhys helped me understand and now I know better. I know there are better ways to stop the hurting." He was looking at the ground now, the wide rim of his hat hiding his face from view.

“Stop the hurting.” Kiara pondered this. Someone with such a noble goal had to be trustworthy, didn’t he? It was more admirable than what most people wanted in the world lately. “So, you’re not a demon? I know little of the Fade, actually. Are there other types of spirits?”

“I . . . I don’t remember. I made myself forget when I made myself real.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Cole.”

“Cole, then. Who is this boy you’ve possessed?”

“I’ve possessed no one. This is the way I look.”

“That’s not how other demons look. I asked a few of the mages who passed through town what a demon would look like so I would know when to run and they said they’re monstrous.”

“This world doesn’t make sense to them. They try to fit but it’s too harsh, too real. That’s why they look wrong.”

“So you look like a young man because you understand this place?”

“This was the form that would allow me to help.”

“I suppose that kind of makes sense,” she mused. Aside from appearing out of nowhere and being able to read others’ minds, he really wasn’t scary to look at. People would probably be more inclined to listen to him in the form of an average unassuming young man. “I didn’t catch it before, but you said you came to check on me ‘again’. Have we met before, Cole?”

"You were angry, frightened, didn't want me there, so I let you forget.”

She tried to understand, but it was difficult to follow his mind. If he had made her forget their first meeting, then of course she would be unable to recall who he was, but it made it feel like there was a hole in her mind. A thought struck her, though. “The blanket and the candle; Did you do that?”

“I was going to give a blanket to the farmer who lost his home, but you did that first. So I gave it to you instead. The light didn’t make the nightmare go away, though. I’m sorry.” He frowned and something shifted in his eyes when he looked at her from under his hat, like he was listening to something. “You don’t like it when they whisper; Words like eels rippling in the dark, unseen until it’s almost too late. Can still see her face, sad, resolute. Allowed the Templar to come closer. ‘How could she? What if she really does hate me? Sends me away? I don’t want to be sent to that place.” His gaze held an intensity that gave her deja vu. She really  _ had _ seen those blue eyes before tonight. “She wouldn’t send you away. Still misses you, thinks of you when she sees a young girl who looks like you.”

Kiara shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk about Nora yet. “Can you read anyone’s mind?”

He shook his head. “No, they have to need me.”

“Like I did,” she said. He nodded. Kiara frowned down into her lap, knowing that there was no point in postponing the inevitable. They could not stay here forever. She would starve to death and he could die of exposure. “You said they wanted to use me against her. If that’s their goal, then I can’t leave myself vulnerable to them, not when so much is at stake.”

“She went dark earlier, no more hurt, but when she came back it was worse. She’s far away now, almost too far to hear. ‘Alive all this time? . . . didn’t tell me . . . No, worry about that later. . . find her. Hope I’m not too late.’”

“What? She knows I’m alive? How?”

Cole frowned in confusion. “I . . . I don’t know. But they’ve gone.” He stood quickly, seemingly ignoring his wound. It must be nice to be able to compartmentalize like a demon. Or  _ spirit _ . When he vanished in a puff of smoke, Kiara jumped and exhaled irritably. Did he have to keep doing that? She fumbled to her feet, her legs wobbly from sitting in such an odd position for so long. Where had the bloody boy gone? There was no sign of him. 

“Cole!” she called out as loud as she dared with those strange men in the area. What if he was discovered? Or what if he just left her there? He wouldn’t, would he? She stood there for a long time, expecting less and less for him to return. Perhaps she could find one of the Inquisition soldiers. They would be able to bring her to Nora or at least send a letter. She started trudging down the steep, rocky hill, reserved to return to town until a far off sight made her laugh in astonishment.

“I found it,” Cole said. In his hand were the reigns of her horse, supplies and all still strapped to its back as it trudged along behind him. “It was scared off during the fight.”

“I guess they were more worried about finding us than chasing the horse. But why did you walk it back? Wouldn’t it have been faster to ride?”

“I, erm, haven’t ever ridden one, actually.”

“Well, after today you won’t be able to say that,” she said as she hoisted herself onto its back. “Come on.” She extended a hand to help him up but instead he teleported himself up. Kiara jumped and let out a little squeal when he was suddenly behind her. “Do you  _ have _ to do that? You have legs you know.” Cole’s chuckle was quiet and she resisted the urge to elbow him in his injured ribs.

“Their hamlet is that way,” he said pointing up the mountain.

“Of course it is,” she groaned.

* * *

Wherever they were going, they had already spent several days navigating through the mountains. It was slow progress trying to find their destination solely based on what he was feeling. It was like following a compass, knowing which direction to go but sometimes you had to backtrack because it lead you to a dead end. But he insisted they were going the right way.

The laceration in his chest was much better, at least. Every time they stopped to eat—or for _ her  _ to eat since he apparently didn’t need to—she worked what little healing magic she could on it as she was now.

“You don’t need to keep doing that,” he insisted. He shifted uncomfortably as if he didn’t like having such attention paid to him. The horse, which she had named Bronto for having a large size similar to that of the horned creature, had taken a liking to the lad. Cole knew the moment the horse was hungry or thirsty and had ensured it was taken care of as immediately as possible. Bronto apparently enjoyed being spoiled in such a way and always stood near him while they rested.

“If it gets infected and makes you sick, you won't be able to help people. Is that what you want?" Kiara argued.

“No.” Cole shook his head and dipped it down in embarrassment at needing aid when she reached her hands toward his middle. Light passed between her hands and his wound. For all she knew, it wasn’t actually doing any good and he was only getting better because he was a spirit, but it made her feel like she was helping at least.

“Are you sure we’re close?”

“Yes, not far now. If we leave now, we should reach her by night fall.

Kiara wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was eager to move forward so she would stop paying attention to him, but grinned and shook her head bemusedly. “Alright, let’s go.” She gathered the cushion she’d been sitting on and her little bowl, stuffing them back into her pack.

“Empty like a tree infested with termites, chewing your insides until there’s nothing left but red hot anger,” Cole muttered. Kiara turned to him in confusion. He was staring at the floor, fidgeting like he did when he was reading someone. She knelt in front of him and touched his arm.

“Cole, are you alright?”

He didn’t seem to hear her. A deep frown was imprinted in his features when he looked up at her. “She stole them. Took them right out from under me. Can’t let her win; She’ll suffer.”

“Who are you reading? It doesn’t sound like the men who tried to take me.”

Cole stood and snow crunched beneath his shoes as he strode from the mountain pass to look across the range. Kiara followed and stood at his side. An army of dark specks marched across the frozen mountains, but she couldn’t tell who they were from this distance. “The Templars, they’re red. They’ll kill them all . . .” Cole muttered. He shook his head forlornly. Kiara held his arm and pulled him toward Bronto.

“We have to help them,” she pleaded. Cole helped her mount and then she helped hoist him up behind her. “Hyah!” she hollered, instructing the horse to run with a light kick. They rode all day, trying to get ahead of the horde, but it was no use. The templars seemed unwavered against the difficult terrain and biting cold and the pair had to be careful to stay out of view. Night had long since fallen by the time they reached Haven and the scouts at the front were already assaulting the town, setting it ablaze.  Horror tightened Kiara's lungs as she rode along the narrow pass beside the frozen lake . Only when she saw Cole engaging a monstrously built man in a full suit of armor before the large wooden wall of Haven did she realize he was no longer behind her on the horse. That didn’t stop her from looking over her shoulder to verify the seat was really empty.

Another Templar was joining the fray. To avoid a repeat of the last time someone had snuck up on him, Kiara guided Bronto over to him. The creature required little motivation and delivered a swift kick to the Templar’s chest. He tried to dodge, but was sent flying across the slick ice. Kiara dismounted when Bronto settled as Cole straightened from his fallen opponent. The main gate was open and they sprinted through. Kiara lead Bronto with them and had to remove her belongings from his back when the pack somehow caught fire. Petty things weren’t important, especially given the circumstances.

“This way!” Cole sprinted off to cut off a group of Templars who were headed for the gate to the upper level of the little town.

“Wait!” she called after him. She left Bronto behind this time to keep him out of danger and sprinted after the spirit. He was dispatching them rather quickly now by appearing behind them and delivering fatal wounds and then moving onto the next.

Kiara mustered as powerful a fireball as she could muster and chucked it at one. He cried out and turned on her. She threw another, but he deflected it with his shield. Oh how she wished she had practiced her magic more. If she couldn’t throw one at him, maybe she could use a different kind of spell, though. She held her hands together as if holding a ball, directing all of her focus on the man. She imagined the spell working and then willed it into existence when she pulled her hands apart as if to pull an invisible ball apart. A harsh snap of cold chilled the Templar. It may not have hurt him, but he certainly moved slower. Encouraged, power coursing through her, she lifted her hands and thrust them down. An invisible force crushed the Templar to the ground where he remained unmoving. Had she just . . .

A hand shook her upper arm to draw her attention. “We can’t stay here,” Cole said. There was a ruckus on the other side of the large wooden door of the wall that fell silent when he knocked loudly. “I can’t come in unless you open!” he called out. It started to open when another hand found her arm and spun her around roughly. Kiara had failed to kill the Templar. She honestly wasn’t sure if she was dismayed or relieved. Though his face was hidden behind his horrifying helmet, she could feel the Templar’s unbridled hate for what she was. He was about to impale her with his sword when she heard another blade cut into him. She released her breath and pulled back, wrenching her arm from his grip as he fell to the ground. Cole straightened behind him. The girl was about to thank him when two pairs of footprints sprinted toward her from behind.

 

“Are you alright?” A blond man asked. He wore a large fur on his back that gave him an imposing silhouette, but his frown was one of concern. The woman behind him gasped and Kiara’s hazel eyes flitted to a pair of light green eyes that she had not seen in over a decade.

  
“Blood of the Maker,” Nora whispered. Kiara shifted awkwardly, averting her gaze in guilt.


	4. Four

"I'm Cole. We came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know."

"What is this? What's going on?"

"The templars come to kill you," the boy, Cole, said.

Cullen moved toward him angrily. "Templars? Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

Cole retreated and took up a defensive stance against Cullen's aggression. Nora flinched when Kiara seemed to instinctively shoot between them to guard the boy. Her hazel eyes widened when she looked up at Cullen as if she hadn't thought this course of action through and was unsure what to do now. Both Cole and the Commander relaxed and Kiara stepped aside, her face red with embarrassment. For all the direness of the situation, the slight upturn of Cullen’s mouth suggested he found either this small act of protection or her embarrassment comical. "The Red Templars went to the Elder one," Cole said. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." He turned to Nora, stepping closer as he said it and then turned to point up one of the rock formations back through the horde. "There." A monstrously tall man was overwatching the assault on Haven. A templar at his side was giving orders to his troops.

"I know that man, but this Elder One . . ." Cullen mused in horror.

"He's very angry that you took his mages."

Nora looked to her Commander. "Cullen, give me a plan! Anything!"

"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!" He turned from her and drew his sword. "Mages! You—you have sanction to engage them! That is Samson. He will not make it easy! Inquisition! With the Herald! For our lives! For all of us!"

Cassandra, Varric, and Solas sprinted toward Nora while Cullen rallied the forces. Kiara started to follow but Nora cut her off.

“No. Go to the Chantry with the other civilians,” she ordered. Kiara stiffened, her fists clenching at her sides.

“I came to help, not to hide.”

“ _ No _ ,” Nora repeated. “We’ll talk later. For now I need you to stay out of the way.” Hurt flashed behind Kiara’s eyes and guilt nipped at Nora’s gut but her anger quelled it. When her sister turned in a huff and marched toward the Chantry, Nora turned to her comrades. “We’ll use the trebuchets,” she informed them.

“Looks like it’s the original squad again,” Varric said teasingly. Cassandra rolled her eyes and Nora tried not to grin as she turned down the path that led to the catapults. It was just outside town so they had to dispatch several Templars. When they finally reached the trebuchet, they found more templars attempting to aim it at Haven. Solas and Varric unleashed long range attacks on them to stop them while Cassandra and Nora charged. The Templars were sturdy, appearing to be infected with red lyrium; Was that why Cole had called them Red Templars? When the last one fell, Nora leaped onto the platform to and began turning the crank.

Solas began casting a barrier spell and a transparent magical dome poured around them like water cascading over an upside down glass bowl. A new wave of Red Templars beat on the wall furious to get in. Slowly, the catapult turned toward the Templar forces. It was almost in place when Solas fell to a knee. The Templars were negating his magic.

“I cannot hold them!” he declared. The shield started to waver, cracks spider-webbing across it’s surface. Varric and Cassandra readied themselves and Nora sprinted to Solas to protect him while he recovered. The wall shattered. Templars charged in, glowing red. Nora and Cassandra charged with their shields to knock over the front soldiers. Varric started picking off the next line of troops and Nora pounced to join in. She was so focused on her opponents that she didn’t notice one of the Templars attempting to turn the trebuchet again. A Templar bashed his shield into her side and sent her reeling to the ground and advanced to slay her when a crossbow bolt pierced his head. Nora shot her smugly smirking dwarf friend a grateful grin.

“Herald, the trebuchet!” Cassandra shouted. The Seeker turned Nora’s attention to the Templar at the catapult and Nora scurried to her feet and sprinted for him. Solas blasted him from the platform with a fireball and Nora leaped for the firing mechanism. It had been moved out of position, but actually gave her a better idea. She released a shot into the mountain range and unleashed an avalanche that devastated the attacking army. Their victory was short lived when the beating flap of large wings drew closer and closer. They looked at each other confusedly and then searched the skies for the sound. Over Solas’s head, she spotted the darkened silhouette that was unmistakably similar to a dragon and it was headed straight for them.

“Maker . . .” Nora muttered. They all dove in separate directions to avoid the blast of flame that crashed into the catapult. Fortunately, the creature kept flying, either oblivious to them or content with taking out the larger threat and leaving them to flounder.

“Is that an . . . an  _ Archdemon _ ?” Cassandra gasped.

“Come on!” Nora found Cullen at the town gate, urgently ushering them back inside. The four of them sprinted past him and Nora turned to help him close the door. “We need everyone back in the Chantry! It’s the only building that might hold out against . . . that beast!” Cullen instructed. When he looked back there was defeat in his brown eyes. “At this point . . . just make them work for it.”

There were several villagers who needed help on the way, but they did eventually reach the church. It was a surprise to find Ser Roderick stumbling toward the door to usher them all inside. A few paces behind, Cole looked on with concern. The Chancellor looked particularly unwell and Nora turned to help him close the doors. Once they were secure, he turned to step away and stumbled. Cole moved to his side quickly to help him to a chair further in. Nora followed, unsure what to do.

“He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep. He’s going to die,” Cole explained. 

“What a charming boy,” Roderick mused sarcastically. A mixture of emotions struck her; Apathy for the indignant, close-minded man she’d known him as and sympathy for the man who was willing to risk his life to help their people. The rest of their citizens were gathered at the back of the chapel near the war room. There, she saw Kiara leaned over a man gripping his wounded leg, wrapping it with linen.

“Herald!” Cullen hurried over with a few Inquisition soldiers in toe. “Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us. There has been no communication, no demands, just advance after advance.”

"I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the Fade, but it looked like that," Cole said.

"I don't care what it looks like!" Cullen barked. "It's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

Cole shook his head. "The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald."

"Then he can have me," Nora offered.

"What? You can't possibly be considering offering yourself up to this lunatic,” the Commander said furiously.

"Why not, if it saves the rest of you?" Nora argued.

"It won't. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them; kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't _ like _ –" Cullen scoffed and turned to Nora, his tone softening. "Herald, there is no tactic here that makes this survivable. The only thing that slowed them down was that avalanche, we could turn the remaining trebuchets on the mountain, but we would be buried in here. There would be no way out.”

“There might be . . .” Cole’s head was dipped as if he were listening to something. “Yes . . . Ser Roderick has a way to help. He wants to save before he dies.”

"There is a path. You wouldn't know it was there unless you'd made the Summer Pilgrimage, as I have. The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could . . . tell you."

Nora crossed her arms, debating. "Use it. I'll distract the Elder One while you get Kiara and the others out. I'm the one he wants right? He'll come if I make enough noise and then I can bury him instead." 

“And when the mountain falls? What about  _ you _ ?” Cullen asked. His brown gaze held hers with intensity, daring her to answer the question because he knew the answer.

“If they all die, then this was all for nothing. Get them out,” she instructed instead. The muscle in his jaw clenched and he stiffened. She turned her back to him and strutted for the door.

* * *

 

She was now unarmed and had no way of releasing the catapult with the Elder One blocking her way. He was impossibly tall, twice her height, perhaps, and was horrific to look at. Red lyrium seemed to grow from his very skull and he was bone thin. "You interrupted a ritual years in the planning and instead of dying, you stole its purpose." He lifted a clawed hand and as a ball of red light ignited in his palm the green mark in Nora's own hand sparked to life and felt as if it would burn it into a stump. She gripped it, crying out in pain. "I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very Heavens." He gripped the red orb until energy burst forth and her own mark did the same, painfully. She screamed and fell to her elbows and knees. "Yet you use the Anchor to undo my work. The gall."

"What is this thing meant to do?" she demanded.

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come to it." Corypheus came closer and grabbed her roughly by the arm, lifting her into the air by it. She refused to cry out again, even though it felt as if her shoulder would pop out of the socket. Her heart nearly stopped when she spotted a figure moving around behind the trebuchet and in a flash of red light she caught a glimpse of Kiara’s face. She returned her glance to Corypheus so as not to give her sister away. What was she thinking? She would get herself killed for certain! "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the old gods of the Empire  _ in person _ . I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this Blighted world. Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the Throne of the Gods, and it was empty!" 

Corypheus turned to throw Nora and found Kiara trying to jar the lever of the catapult, but it seemed to be stuck. He threw Nora to his right and she rolled into the snow. Corypheus stomped over to Kiara in time for her to finally wrench the lever over. He grabbed her by her hair and lifted her from the ground just as the arm of the catapult launched a boulder at the mountain behind Haven. Corypheus spun to watch the snow cascade down the mountain, building into another avalanche. He tossed Kiara aside and her head smacked into one of the wooden posts of the catapult. Nora scrambled to her feet to help Kiara. She was conscious, luckily, but gripped her head as Nora helped her stand. Corypheus was with his dragon now, who swooped him up to escape the flood of snow heading for them.

Nora grabbed Kiara’s hand and bolted in the opposite direction. She wasn’t sure where she was leading them, but there wasn’t another option. The snow grew closer and closer and her heart pounded faster and faster. Outside the town, she spotted a cave in the ground that had previously been boarded up, but the boards had been broken. Kiara required no steering from her and veered for it. They dove inside before the snow could engulf them. It was a far fall to the bottom. Kiara screamed when they crumpled to the ground upon their rough landing and curled over to grip her leg. Some snow followed them, but only enough to equal a large snowball when it landed on top of them.

“What’s wrong?” Nora asked, pushing to her hands and knees.

“I felt something crack,” Kiara replied with a tearful grimace. Nora wrapped one of Kiara’s arms around her neck and hoisted her to her feet.

“I’m sorry, but we have to move. We can still reach the others.” Taking in their surroundings, they seemed to be in some sort of old ruin, dimly lit by a small magelight that Kiara held in front of them. It was slow moving, pulling Kiara through the long, dark tunnels, which turned into caves. Kiara lit a torch for Nora once they found one and Nora in turn lit any brazier they passed so they would know which direction they had come from. Eventually Nora started to worry they would become lost in the maze of caves when Kiara’s light started to flicker out. The young girl gasped and looked around wildly. 

“No, no, no . . .” she muttered in a low voice. She pulled her arm from Nora’s shoulders and clamped her hands to her ears. “ _ Stop it!  _ I’m not even asleep!”

“What’s wrong?” Nora asked. She gripped her sister’s arms so she wouldn’t stumble over but couldn’t get Kiara to meet her eye. She was still looking around.

“You can’t hear them whispering?”

“Do you mean demons?” Nora asked. It was the logical leap given that the girl was a mage. Kiara nodded weakly. “They’re probably from one of the smaller rifts. It’ll be alright, I can handle them,” she assured her. Kiara nodded let Nora help her walk again. She insisted the whispering was getting louder. They came across a large room with ruined archways above the doors like the first room they had found. Kiara whimpered and refused to move forward. That’s when Nora noticed the pair of hunched over despair demons blending into the rubble on the ground. Large mouths could be seen beneath the low hoods of their cloaks when they turned to face them. Anger twisted Kiara’s quivering lips.

“Shut up!” She said. What were the creatures saying to her? The ‘Anchor’, as Corypheus had called it, sparked to life sending sparks up her arm. The demons moved to attack and Nora waved the Mark at them instinctively. A small rift ripped open in the air above them and sucked them into oblivion. Nora gaped but regained enough sense to close the rift.

“What—how did you do that?” Kiara asked. Nora looked down at her hand in confusion.

“I . . . don’t know.” But there was no time to contemplate. She turned to Kiara’s pale face. “Can you hear any more of them?” When she shook her head Nora grinned meekly. “It’s safe, then.” It didn’t take much longer to find the surface, but a blizzard was waiting outside for them. Perhaps the avalanche had caused it somehow? There was no way of telling where the refugees had gone, but Cullen had explained to her once that, in an evacuation, he would lead them into the mountains. With nothing else to go on, she lead Kiara into the storm. Their progress was painfully slow, but Kiara tried to hold a small wind spell in front of them to keep the snow away from their faces as much as possible.

But the snow grew deeper and deeper until Kiara could no longer moved forward. She tried to pull her leg through the thigh-high snow for as long as possible, but eventually it was too much for the broken bone. Kiara tried to move away from Nora, breathless and weak. “You should go on ahead. They can’t be far. You can leave me here and come back with help.”

The strategy made sense, but love wouldn’t allow it. Nora pulled both of Kiara’s arms around her neck and hoisted her onto her back. “It’s alright,” she said with a grunt. “I won’t leave you. We’ll get through this together.” And they did. In the middle of a rock formation outside a mountain pass, they found a small camp fire. Embers still burned in the coals. Likely a failed attempt to make camp due to the harsh wind being funneled between the mountains. At the other end of the pass they finally found the Inquisition.

“There! It’s her!” She heard Cullen call out.

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra declared. Adrenaline had kept Nora from realizing how exhausted she was from the battle and the stress, but now that they were safe again, her body started to feel week. 

“I have to put you down . . .” she mumbled to Kiara.

“Nora?” Kiara questioned in concern when Nora stumbled to her knees. Cullen, Cassandra, and a few Inquisition soldiers sprinted up the snowy mountainside to them and Cullen knelt on one knee in front of her to check on her. His gloved hand touched her cheeks and she just looked up at him, her emotions raw. She felt as though she might cry, but she couldn’t pin-point why; Grief for losing Haven, anger for Corypheus’s attack, relief at finding them all alive.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Kiara’s leg, though,” she said lethargically. The soldiers were already helping Kiara, one on either side of her. She looked completely embarrassed to need so much help. They were brought down the hill to where the wind was less brutal. The rest of the villagers were setting up tents but Nora insisted that Kiara be given somewhere to rest straight away. She tried to get away with at least helping to oversee things, but after a little while Cullen ordered her to get some sleep as well.

She found Kiara asleep in a tent. Her leg had been set and splinted and she was now shivering under her blanket. Nora pulled another blanket off the cot that had been set aside for her and laid it out over her sister instead. She couldn’t help but wonder . . . was she having dreams of demons? Was that why she had left all those years ago, for fear that she would be considered a danger and made tranquil? Nora planted a soft kiss on her forehead and then collapsed onto her cot. At some point during her restless sleep, she awoke to find Cullen’s fur coat draped over her. She hugged it’s warmth tighter to herself and fell asleep to the calming, protective smell of him.


End file.
